Seven Deadly Sins
by Elizabeth Ashton
Summary: Three-shot. Narcissa and Lucius' perspective on the seven deadly sins. Rated 'M' for sexual themes. Post-war fic. Now complete with Draco's perspective for an added bonus.
1. Narcissa

And so here I am. Narcissa Malfoy. Paying the price for my sins.

I walk along the floors of what was my home. It isn't any more. Faded pools of blood tarnish the ancient floors of Malfoy Manor. The portraits now hang bare. The sunlight no longer strokes the side of my face. I am paying the price for my sins.

**Lust**. Sexual, power, fame, deduce what you will. The carnal desires my soul used to crave after have now been cut short. I look to Lucius, sat in the armchair beside the fire, his eyes heavy with deprivation. Sex used to bind us, ignite us, heal us. My mind is cast back to our first ten years of marriage. The divan, the desk, our marital bed. It didn't matter where. Aphrodite would have been unable to comprehend the heights of our desires. The screams, the guttural cries, the pulling of hair, the scratching of skin; I remember it all. Every single thrust, every single cry, every single climax. We used to lust after one another. Sex was our source of power, our inspiration, our satisfaction. Even now, I look to the man I trusted, the man I loved, the man who fathered my precious son, and I still lust after him. Past tense. Pretence. Lucius Malfoy betrayed me. I cannot force the Devil to avert his gaze elsewhere. Red-blooded woman, one might say. Lust is second nature to a Malfoy. Old habits die hard.

**Gluttony**. Party upon party. Seven golden platters of indulgence. Apples and grapes left to wither and mould in the fruit basket. Half a turkey left untouched at Christmas. The aristocratic Malfoys had it all. 'Eat until you die'. Literally. Metaphorically. Euphoria by taste. Ecstasy by smell. Oranges in the garden, covered in a layer of earth. Five potatoes left untouched at dinner. Ice cream drizzle down my fair cheek. Chocolate sauce smeared across my son's lips. The house-elves at our every beck and call. 'More wine! More wine!'. Glasses filled, glasses chinked, glasses smashed. What difference does it make? A table filled to feed a battalion, that was our prerogative. Eat wealthy, live long. A thousand eyes would look down from Heaven, and not even the Gods could touch the fruits of the Earth on our table. We were not born to share. You get what you can afford, I used to say. We were never up for sharing, us Malfoys.

**Avarice**. Renaissance designs. Art Deco. Materialistic. Aesthetic love. Money cannot buy you happiness, they would cry. I would rather weep in a mansion than in a terrace. Obsessed with the jewels and gems of the ground. My necklace of pearls worth more than our wardrobes combined. Three dresses became twenty in a matter of months. Silk, satin, organza, shantung. Mrs Malfoy always wanted more. Gold. Silver. Ruby. Diamond. Platinum. Each one better than the next. I stroke the fibres of the armchair. My fingers found the carved pattern in the armrest. I could not settle for anything less than best. 'Personalise it' I ordered, and so they did. More and more galleons slipped through my delicate fingers, spinning on the marble surfaces. One, two three. Money multiplying by the second. A Nimbus two-thousand-and-one, not two, not three. Five sets of dinner robes tailored to the highest quality. Garnets, ambers, opals, emeralds; I wanted every single one. My eyes could pass for sapphires. Multiply everything by three.

**Sloth**. I would not lift a finger in the Manor. I would watch the house-elves sleep, watch them weep, hear the floorboards creak. Sometimes, I swore I could hear them squeak. Varnish, gloss, scrub and bleach were the regular instructions. Height of summer and the grass was my outdoor bedroom. Add a sunkissed glow to my porcelain skin. Depths of winter and the bedchamber became my sanctuary. Thick, goose filled duvets and fleece blankets. A hot water bottle, please. I would watch the world go by as centuries of literature fuelled my imagination. 'Mistress', I would hear, but I would not say a word. They knew what to do. A broom lay unused in the cabinet. A Pureblood woman never cleans. Servants, peasants,unpaid labour. I would just take all the credit. The chandelier looked sparkling new. Scent of lacquer filled the air. Cinnamon, vanilla, coconut. A concoction especially requested by me as I laid on my bed next to my naked husband.

**Wrath**. Nobody ever insults the ancient Malfoy family. A touch, a scrape, a bite, a break. My eyes lit up like the night sky when Dobby was rewarded with his fate. The look on Harry Potter's face. A simple hex was often enough to deter my enemies. Heart of stone have I. Not a single tear was shed. My punishments were cruel and deceptive. Take the Dark Lord for example. I lied to his face. Occlumency is a gift that only the most talented possess. A smile crept across my lips as the truth came to light. My son is not to be harmed. Any who do so will pay with their life. I once injured a girl who dipped my curls in ink. Five long days in the Hogwarts Infirmary and she never crossed my path again. Narcissa Malfoy plays dirty. Anger, hatred, loathing, murderous intent. Mudbloods do not belong, I said. Traitors are on a mission to self-destruct.

**Envy**. I envied the girl in the year above me. Skinny, half-Persian, eyes as green as Malachite. The girl that all the boys wanted. Nineteen-seventy-seven, the third year I failed to conceive. I envied every pregnant woman I laid my eyes upon. I dreamed of nurseries in baby pink and baby blue. The green-eyed monster came out to play. Mists and fogs of jade. Lucius Malfoy's girlfriend. I envied her the most. Eighteen months my junior and hair darker than ebony. Raven-haired and sharp-witted with a mischievous nature and a delight to tease. Bellatrix's thick curls that fell below her breast. Andromeda's nails that protruded from her slender fingers. Why couldn't I have those same things? It wasn't meant to be, so it seemed. Sew my eyes shut, Dante, exchange my sight for eternal darkness. Purgatory will be no match for the emotional strain I once felt. Nobody can understand. Seeing everything in a rich shade of green, and suddenly everything became red.

**Pride**. The sin I am guilty of the most. I looked down from my pedestal and judged those who crept below. Step on eggshells, my dears, for we deserved everything we achieved. Pureblood royalty. We had the houses to match. Sanctimona Vincet Semper. Our purity was our pride. Untainted by the second-class. Vanity. My looks never fade. The female Narcissus has come to stay. Platinum blonde and rouged lips. Nobody could compare. Even in the war, I managed to retain my touch. A goddess between the sheets. I could keep Lucius from his inevitable release. A woman of words, a manipulator of language and expression. Happiness, sadness, pleasure, desire, hunger, I had it all covered. I could rival the talents of Shakespeare and Chaucer. Two rings wrapped around my finger. Married to Lucifer, the fallen angel. We did not need wings to fly. Independent, high in our rankings, perfect in every single way. We were idols in our own right. 'My husband can afford the best'. Jealousy often replaced hate.

Seven deadly sins. I am guilty of thee. I look at the clock. It is a quarter to three. Thirty minutes to the trial, and I will learn if my efforts were in vain. To be or not to be, that will be _my _question.


	2. Lucius

I see her approach my side, her walk still full of grace and pride, although I know she is crumbling inside. A light kiss upon my cheek and a sympathetic glance. That is all she can bear.

Lucius Malfoy, the Devil in disguise. Look what I have done. She is paying the price for _my_ sins.

**Lust**. She was mine from day one. No other man could possess her. Skin as pale as ivory and eyes like diamonds. Reserved in public, a whore in the bedroom. Mine to devour at my request. The way her body quivered upon release. I could drink in her beauty for hours. Black to Malfoy, she made the transition well. Nails in deep and scratches across my back. I miss those days. I haven't made love to her in months. The strain, the pain, equals no gain. My body is deprived of hers. The corsets hang unused in our wardrobe. Our love life is reminiscent of a spider's web. Deadly and diseased. What have I done? I miss the scent of her perfume on my clothes. Lips as luscious as a red rose. I cannot touch. I cannot taste. Her heartbeat is faint in my ears. The screams of euphoria are a million miles away. Young love was so innocent and pure. The only cries I hear are those of despair in the depths of the night. Come back to me, my Narcissa. Forget your name. Call out mine. Fall against me. I will catch you.

**Gluttony**. Always a feast for a King. I was never a prince. Double portions with a click of the fingers. My family were always to feed from the prized cuts. A wine cellar full of Italy's best. Desserts upon desserts, although none sweeter than my wife. Vanilla was her favourite, chocolate was mine. Draco preferred caramel. A kitchen suited for royalty. I did not expect any less. The first war came. We ate like there was no tomorrow. We had a son to feed. The second war came. We hardly ate a thing. Organic fruits going to waste. Whiskey became my stabiliser. The most expensive was delivered to my door. 'Drink like there's no tomorrow'. So I did. Narcissa devoured the white wines. She always had classier taste. Liqueur chocolates from the continent. Drizzled puddings from London. Meats from the country. The anti-famine. Eat, drink, and be merry. Bursting at the seams. Crying for some relief. Possessive eating to deter the hungry. Grandest parties a mortal could throw. Gluttonous appetites feed a gluttonous mind. More, and more, and more. There was no end in sight.

**Avarice**. A vault full of pure gold. A name worth a thousand galleons. Both an express ticket to happiness. The finest hand-crafted jewellery for my wife, the newest materials for my son. First impressions were key. A hundred galleons here, another thousand there. Money does grow on trees. The bottomless pit. I could drown in my wealth. The jingle of money in my pocket pleases me. No price was too much. Gold, silver, diamond. Our Manor is full of them. Antique designs and ancient sculptures, all to the highest bidder. Me. I wanted to make her happy. Heaven was no match for our life. A water feature in the garden. Silk curtains in the bedrooms. A Grandfather clock in the Hall. The smell of status and admiration allured me. Money, money, money. Poor is a foreign concept to me. Equality is a myth. I see our initials everywhere. The family crest carved into our chairs. Better than the rest. Famed for our affluence. Not even the Lestranges could rival us. Narcissa sparkled in the summer sunshine. Yet another craving satisfied. Ruby red, gracious green, bedazzling blue.

**Sloth**. I was not created to do a pauper's work. House elves lined in pillowcases. Lists as long as I was tall. Polish, soak, clean, wash, shine. Repetition to perfection. The Manor was my pride and joy. If my parents were alive to see it now. I would bawl from the first floor. No rest in trade for incompletion. I know my wife better than the house in which I live. Sweep, sweep, do it, freak. I do not have time to play. Prepare for a party, prepare for a ball. The house elves would do it all. I stayed firmly rooted to the chair, just like my father before me. They begged for a break. My reputation at stake. Summer turned to autumn, and I simply moved inside. The fire was my remedy, my wife for company. A glass smashed on the floor. Not my move to make. Indulgent in chocolate cake. Our shoes dumped on the floor. Our coats slung over the chairs. We didn't care. They were at our every beck and call.

**Wrath**. Hate. Bait. Staying out late. A flash of green and the end in sight. The conquering light. The Dark Mark ran through my blood, black as night. My sympathy extended to two. Muggles, Half-Bloods, they were all as pathetic. The relief when the blade pierced Dobby's skin. Bellatrix's ultimate sin. I couldn't surpass a grin. Harry Potter on my list. A disgrace to wizard kind. My wife saved his life. A spell, a squeal, her face as cold as ice. _How dare he_, I protested. She bears the mark even now. The Dark Lord committed the ultimate betrayal. He promised my family would be safe. Incriminate me for his murder. I will take the blame. My abused son. My knuckles begin to crack. My life is driven by fury and a thirst for revenge. The dead-pan stare on Draco's face. It haunts me now. Voldemort tore us apart. Narcissa can't even look me in the eye. I miss her warm voice. My mind is set to kill. Sacrifice in return for life. Sentence me tonight, Minister. Justice will be served.

**Envy**. Don't touch her. Narcissa Malfoy is mine. A champagne flute and flirtatious words. My wand poised in my hand. Their face protruding closer to hers. A bulky arm heading for her waist. 'No thank you', she would say. The diamond ring on her finger said it all. The men seemed not to care. Don't you even dare. A hex, a curse, a brawl, a fight. Don't test my patience, gentlemen. My wife, my life. Jealousy doesn't even come close. Eyes of grey now as green as Despair. Hers of blue filled with fright. The Death Eaters at the table were the worst. 'Fancy a fuck?', one asked. Abuse during my incarceration. More offers given than I could oblige. Not a mark next to their name. I was blacklisted. A thousand suitors, and I was so far back in line. Beauty beyond compare. Intelligence far beyond her years. I was occupied. I did not have a chance. I had to be frank. Dumped the waste, and claimed the gem. My soul was not at rest until then.

**Pride**. Nobody was even close. The awards and special mentions were all ours. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. The motto still rings true. Conservative beliefs and obsessed with perfection. Wearing London's best. Holidaying in five-star locations. Nods and appreciation everywhere we stepped. Portraits scattered across the front page. A modelling contract declined. Donations from our admirers. We lived the highlife. Glamour exceeded expectations. A son born, the rightful heir. Handsome and healthy, the apple of my eye. A father's dream come to light. The best man for the job. Slytherin prefect. I put them in line. A thanks from Dumbledore. The pleasure was all mine. Hoards of girls desperate for a glance. They had no chance. I already had mon amour. Her back to the floor. Hours passing away and she cried for more. A champion in the physical art. I had won her heart. Best-dressed and employee of the month. I always beat the rest. A one man race. I rest my case. A portrait over the fireplace. Pride captured in oil strokes. Egotistical. Narcissistic. Vain. Negligent of emotion.

The seven deadly sins. Innate as they can be. It is my fault she is here. Crumbling from within. The Faustus reincarnate. If I could trade anything for my soul, I would. Broken, she stands by the window. The raindrops are the tears she is afraid to shed. 'Come to me', I plea. She does. I stand. She backs away. I take her hand and place my fingers between hers. 'I am sorry', I say. I pray. The make-up begins to fade. I see her for real. Her eyes are raw. I want to give her relief. My other arm around her waist. She's going to break. She does. The first kiss in weeks. Her lips against mine. What have I done?

Sentence me. I need to pay the price.


	3. Draco

I had the voice that was never heard. I see my father's fingers trace around my mother's neck, but there is nothing there. The passion of their relationship is akin to that of a dying flame. Judgement Day has befallen our family, and I am awaiting to hear my fate. A bang on the plank, praying for meeting adjourned.

**Lust. **Lust for power, lust for greed. Unconventional I was in my ways. I had girls chasing after me. Look once, look twice. Take a roll of the dice. Who was next on my list that night? Snake eyes, room for two. I had fallen prey to the love triangle. Women, power, greed. My thirst for all uncontrollable. My father had taught me the art of seduction. Look, feel, touch, taste. Those nights blurred into one. A red rose lying on the floor. Not any more. Petals wilting at the smell of death. Eight hours later and they were forgotten. Move on. Who is next? I learnt from the best. I am a ladies man. Drop to the floor. We shall say no more. I yearned to be strong. A black mark etched upon my skin. I win. My mother taught me to be a gentleman. Please and thank you, I did never forget. A white dinner jacket and black shoes to match. I was a right catch.

**Gluttony. **Dining like a prince, morning, noon and night. Venison, turkey and beef. A marvellous feast. A glass of wine to match once I hit seventeen. Deep red and glittering whites. Pure silver cutlery from the south of France. Personal service both home and away. The finest fruits from the continent and chocolate from the Americas. A match made in Heaven. I would have sacrificed my soul for more. My eyes like jewels when dinner was served. Grey eyes turned quartz. My mother's a deep sapphire. My father was gazing into a river. Flirtatious behaviours in time for dessert. I devoured each and every course. Sponges and creams delighted the palate. Smack with a spoon, press with a knife, stab with a fork. An empty plate meant a satisfied appetite. We all wanted more. The parties were the worst. Three rounds became six. One drink became four. People vomiting outside the door. I remember them well. The voices are an echo of a life once lived.

**Avarice. **I could never settle for second best. Draco Malfoy always came top. His 2000 became my 2001. Navy robes became my black. Money slipping through our fingers like no tomorrow. Portraits lining the manor. You can almost smell the wealth of our ancestors. Affluence is hereditary. Our hair as pure as the gold Mother wears. The most expensive ring in London. Mine. I was not willing to part. Quidditch World Cup. We were treated like royalty. Personal escorts everywhere we stepped. Money well spent. My eleventh birthday was a treat. I got what I wanted. I possessed what I dreamed. No waiting until Christmas. The vaults almost as precious as the contents themselves. Trophy cups. Diamonds and jewels. Pearls and silver. Paintings from the revolution. Oils as delicate as Sleeping Beauty's golden thread. We only had to ask, and we received. A sack of gold was no loss to us. My father worked to keep Mother sweet. Money was her source of happiness. Her joy was his.

**Sloth. **Tried very little, gained maximum results. I did not have time to study. Home for the summer. Nothing changed. Lounging in bed all day. Leaving for the new term. Mother begged me to stay. I never cleared up after myself. A book on the bed, a tie on the carpet. The house-elves sweeping and brushing from dawn until dusk. Relaxing on the chair. I did not care. Watching from afar. My parents outside in the garden. Wine glass after wine glass. They did not move an inch. The house-elves felt the pinch. Blisters upon their feet, scratches upon their skin. Dust and dirt in the bin. I did not get accustomed with Muggle traits. Fine hands were not tailored for common jobs. Washing, cleaning, ironing. All were foreign concepts to us. A peasant begged me to learn. I laughed in their face. Their greatest mistake. I was above them in the pecking order. I take pride of place. Our permanent financial state. Cry for mercy and receive none.

**Wrath.** I was bred to hate Potter. Seven years. My nemesis now a part of me. Everywhere I went. He was in mind. My greatest defeat, so I hoped. Granger, a plague upon the Earth. Weasley, a thorn in my side. Always looking to hide. I sussed them out better than a wolf. Smiling once they met their fate. Never too late. Sixth year, a boy became a man. Do what I can. My father behind bars. My mother in bits. My life stolen by the indestructible thief. I did not have a say. I was forced to play. Marked by him like a pig for slaughter. His poison running through my veins. The personified wedge between our family. We were destroyed. The wounds do not seem to heal. Confidence severely lacking in all respects. A long-lasting effect. Evil is dead, but the tension is not. One open door allows another to be slammed closed. Feelings of anger unresolved. This is the end. Close my eyes and count to ten.

**Envy. **Top of the class. Winner for being alive. First place for saving a victim twice. What does it matter? It matters to me. 'Harry Potter, the Auror to be.' Favouritism at its finest. He never had to try. Luck fell straight into his lap. I was having none of that. I revelled in his detention. Allow me the last laugh. My victories often short lived. 'The Boy Who Lived'. Engrained into my skull. Why all the fame for something so dull? His parents were dead. Everything was said. Nothing to claim, yet he shot straight to fame. I wanted my piece. Cast into shadow, always considered last. Life was not fair. Father agreed. He hated him just as much as I. A scar and he was held in high regard. I got sick of hearing his name. The manor was a safe haven for me. I was the chosen one, the apple of my parents' eye. Number one child. Nobody around to compete.

**Pride. **A clap of my hands and they were there. Zabini. Crabbe. Goyle. Parkinson. I had my own little army of fools. I paraded at the front of the line. I did the crime, they did the time. Our name in the paper, a smile cross my face. We deserved the front page. Mother with her beauty, Father with his charm. We have the act down to an art. A spell or two to hide the flaws. We owned it all. The Inner Circle burned with intense jealousy. We were always two steps in front. My father got the girl, he won her fair and square. A ring on her finger. A few years later, I was there. The King of the future. I looked forward to that. A party at ours. Compliments to the hosts. A dance with the wife. A drink with the man. What happened with our lives? I feel grossly deprived. The fallen kingdom was supposed to be mine.

We waited and waited to hear the news. The clock carried on ticking. Background noise. A distraction from the whispers. My eyes darted from my mother to the crowd. Narcissa Malfoy. Give evidence. Clarify and paraphrase. It sounded all the same. Her eyes brimming with tears. I could sense my father's fear. Guilty, or not guilty. We were chancing with fate. Guilty, we repented. Azkaban awaited, but that was not to be. My mother had saved us. We were now free.

**A/N: I thought I would add Draco's perspective as a bonus chapter, if you like, for I really enjoyed writing this.**


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